One of These Remotes

One of these remotes, with its curved design, felt like an extension of my mind the first time I held it in my hand.

One looks like it was designed by the government.

One is backlit and one isn’t. But the one that is doesn’t need it because the most used buttons fall exactly where my fingertips expect them to be. Even in the dark.

One has a button to turn it off and is a different size then the button designated to turn it off. And they are right next to each other so I’m constantly confusing one for the other.

One of these remotes has four colored buttons with no labels. I pretend they are Skittles.

One remote is largely unchanged from when it debuted nearly 15 years ago. The 30 second forward, 7 second rewind and pause button can all be reached with my thumb.

The other came standard with my HD receiver delivered last month, and puts the most used buttons in the most awkward to reach areas.

One remote tries to do everything and and succeeds in doing everything poorly.

One is built to perform a few tasks well and is so well designed that a two year old can use it.

I sure miss one of these remotes.

Someone To Blame

When faced with a parenting dilemma I seldom fall back those parenting books filled with time honored suggestions. The fact that I’ve never had any interest in reading them says more about me than the books.

For better or worse, I trust my instincts.

Last night was one of moments where my instincts told me to chill out, have a seat and shut up. My son attended a scouting activity and expected to be presented with an advancement. But it wasn’t to be. Although he’ll be honored next month, he was crushed. He worked hard to pass off the last few requirements, the last of which was building a birdhouse.

When the pack meeting was over, I tried to cheer him up, but the right words escaped me. I don’t know that there was anything I could say to console him. If there was, I was not tuned in to receive them because my thoughts were focused on locating someone to blame.

As we drove home I thought about how I was going to fix the problem. My son was upset. Someone dropped the ball and I wanted them to understand how that must feel to a 9 year old boy, who had done everything he was supposed to. Very little was said on the drive home. I didn’t want to make things worse by forcing small chat on him.

As we got out of the car, I asked “Would you like to play racquetball with me tomorrow night?”

He’s never played before. But he loved taking tennis lessons this summer, and I figured it would take his mind off the evening. I located my old racquet in the garage and we practiced hitting balls off the wall calendar before mom arrived home, and could put a stop to it.

When I awoke this morning I considered shooting off an email to the leader explaining how hurt my son felt. Doing so would have made me feel better, but it wouldn’t change anything. The meeting was over and my son would have to wait another month.

When I was my son’s age, I participated in the scouting program to the degree that it didn’t interfere with baseball or basketball. Often, it did interfere which was fine with me because the idea of sleeping in a tent, cooking meals over a fire and wearing a uniform sounded about as fun as a haircut.

My son met me at the door when I arrived home from work. We gathered our equipment and headed to the gym where we played racquetball together for an hour. Other than the time he learned to solve the Rubik’s Cube I’ve never seen him happier. When he hit the ball into my stomach and couldn’t stop laughing I knew my son was back.

I didn’t focus another second on what he gone wrong the night before, because it no longer mattered.

Chasing Ghosts

I’m nearing the half way mark of my career and most of those twenty years have been spent chasing a ghost of one type or another. When I graduated from college I chased prominent companies. Position and pay weren’t on my mind as much as the company name.

Then I chased the title ghost followed by the salary ghost. It took time but I usually found what I was searching for. But then the game was over, and it wasn’t long before I was chasing another ghost.

I’ve talked to people who have the goal of working for Intel, Facebook, Microsoft or Google. Any position will do. Get your foot in the door and figure it out from there. The younger stupid me believed that, and it may work for a while. But if you’re job isn’t providing any joy or growth you’re selling your life away to the highest bidder.

A year ago, I lost my job. What seemed like a major setback has been the opposite. I was compensated well, but nothing else about my old job brought joy into my life. And yet I wonder why I stayed so long? I suspect I was comfortable like many people who don’t see what’s around the corner.

If I could go back twenty years and give my twenty something self any advice it would be: find something you love to do and do without regards to location, pay or status.

This past year I realized I was heading down the wrong road. So I decided to turn around and take another route. So far that’s resulted in setting my career back a few years from where I’d like it to be. But I’m at peace knowing that I’m headed in the right direction.

The Milk Man

One afternoon a representative from Smith Brothers Farms knocked on our door and asked if we’d be interested in having milk delivered to our home.

We’ve never done this before, but make several unplanned trips to the grocery store each week to purchase milk, so it seemed like a good idea. Kim signed up on the spot.

A few days later a small milk cooler showed up on our porch which lead to our kids calling dibs on who would be the first to retrieve the milk.

Thursday morning rolled around, and the kids were up before the milk arrived . It wasn’t long before our milk man slipped four half gallons into our cooler.

That was a few weeks ago and we’ve enjoyed having fresh milk in our home which has resulted in fewer trips to the store. The milk costs a bit more, but it tastes better. Their website touts, “from the cows to your table within 24 to 48 hours” and I believe it.

But as much as our kids have enjoyed the Thursday morning excitement, and we’ve enjoyed the quality of milk, that’s not what made this local business stand out.

What impressed me most was hand written note that arrived before our first order. It wasn’t written on corporate letterhead, and it certainly wasn’t written by a PR department, nor did it contain the typical corp-speak that says everything but means nothing.

Instead the note included a list of items we ordered and the day and time we should expect them. He thanked us for supporting his business and signed his name.

No list of products. No upsell. No corporate approved title or signature in place of his first name. This is a business that stands out not because they do one big thing. No, instead they have made many small decisions that add up to something memorable.

Compare this to hundreds of letters I receive each year from DirecTV, Comcast, & AT&T promising me the world if only I’ll send them a few more bucks each month.

Some will say this personalized business model does not scale. Why not just have a computer send a confirmation slip by mail? Wouldn’t that do the job and cost less?

It would and it wouldn’t.

Lost in Translation

Nine years after its release, I watched Lost in Translation on HBO. When it was over, I convinced Kim to watch it with me, and I enjoyed it as much the second time. I even noticed a few detailed I missed the first time such as when Charlotte stubbed her toe.

The idea I take from the film is that connections can change the trajectory of your life. But they aren’t guaranteed nor do they occur often. When they do happen, they are the source of so much joy that the rest of life’s complexities fade into the background.

I recently wrote about a friend I meet for Pho a few times each year. We chat for hours, and he’s my only guy friend that I hug when we meet or say goodbye. I don’t know why other than I share a bond with him that’s strengthened over time.

Last spring I sat down at a hamburger joint in Salt Lake City with my father. I’d recently lost my job and my career was in flux. I listened to him describe what it’s like to see your spouse become very ill, and how his plans for retirement had changed because of that. I’d never thought about it from his perspective, but there is was in all its emotional rawness.

It’s not easy for my father to say, “I have no idea how this turns out”, yet when he said that I felt a connection to him that I hadn’t felt before. He’s dedicated and controlled in his actions. But he was vulnerable in that moment, and it brought us closer together.

I told my father that I have no clue what I’m going to do to support my young family. I’d recently started a small business with a friend to escape having to take another mindless corporate job. I wondered if he’d question my work ethic. Instead he placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “You’ll figure it out. You always have.”

When the movie ended I told Kim that I could relate to much of it because I’d felt that instant bond when I first met her in Las Vegas. I didn’t feel the need to be someone I wasn’t because she was happy with the imperfect me.

That so few of these connections have taken place in my life has me wondering if they are naturally rare or if I’m not perceptive or skilled enough to create more of them. But I know that I’m happiest when they are occur regularly.

For Sale: You

I’m beginning to equate free with disappointment, at least when it comes to online services such as Facebook and Gmail. Twitter too but, I’ll leave that for another day.

I’ve been logging into Facebook each day for four years. And yet I couldn’t explain their various levels of privacy to anyone. Just when I think I’ve set them where I want, Facebook decides to make wholesale changes in the name of what’s best for their users.

But change after mind-numbing change, we know better.

Maybe Facebook doesn’t intentionally try to confuse their users, but it certainly doesn’t hurt them when we sprinkle bits and pieces of our life around the Facebook forest, making it easier for advertisers to track our every movement. Seriously, I look at the privacy setting screen and have no clue what I’m looking at. Even the wording used to describe settings is slippery.

Parts of my profile that were set to private by default are suddenly made public, and I’m forced to lock it down again. It’s a never-ending game of Whack a Mole, and that’s par for the course with Facebook.

No other service I use changes more than Facebook. I used to have a feel for what details I made public and those I kept private. But Zuckerberg and his crew are wearing me down, and maybe that’s their goal. Bonk us over the head enough and we’ll succumb to making everything public.

Facebook is a light diversion, but I rely on Gmail to get serious work done. Gmail used to work quite well. When I switched to it in 2004, Yahoo and Hotmail were a mess. Gmail came along and gave us a clean, simple and fast email service. And, for the most part, it worked well for the next five years.

But for whatever reason, Google has been working overtime to make Gmail as unusable as Hotmail and Yahoo. The latest update made it nearly unusable until someone explained how I could revert back to the old Gmail.

Google flipped the switch and immediately text scrolled off the screen, fonts grew, and Google decided maybe I’d like to CHAT while doing email. I’m left to wonder if anyone at Google actually tried to read an email using the new layout without.

I’ve switched back to the old look, but for how long? Each time I login I’m greeted with a little black ribbon begging me to switch to the “new look”. I don’t recall asking for a new look, and I can’t imagine these changes were made with the interest of the users in mind.

You’ve no doubt heard the old poker adage, attributed to Warren Buffet, “If you sit in on a poker game and don’t see a sucker, get up. You’re the sucker.”

Well, along those same lines I’d like to add: “If you’re using a free service and can’t figure out what product the company is selling, it’s you.”

Yes, you.

You are a data gold mine and Facebook and Google know it, but they don’t want to blatantly come out and admit it. In less than four years, Facebook could create more accurate profile of me than my doctor or employer or my church.

I’m beginning to rethink what I’m giving up to use these free services. I wish I could pay for Facebook and Gmail, but only if I could be certain they would respect my privacy and stop making changes that either break the service or sell me out.

I’m tired of being the sucker.

Short Cut Selling

When it comes to sales, I have very little experience. Let me rephrase that: I have none. My career has been spent in either marketing or management roles.

But for the past couple of months I’ve found myself in a sales role at Puget Systems. We are a small company that builds high-end computers. A decked out system can often cost as much as a car, so it’s far from an impulse purchase. My job is to find out what the customer needs and see if we can build a system that meets those needs. Most people I can help. Some I can’t, and in those instances, I will direct them to a company that can.

After a back-and-forth discussion on Twitter with John Obeto I’m beginning to doubt that what I do has anything to do with sales, at least in the manner in which he describes.

The discussion started when I questioned Microsoft’s recent move to pay retail sales staff to recommend Windows Phones. Subsequent news reports have used words such as incentivize, subsidize, or commission in place of pay, but let’s call it what it is.

If you walk into an AT&T, Verizon, Sprint or T-Mobile store looking for a new phone, would you want to know if the sales person is being paid a kickback for each Windows Phone he or she sales? I believe such kickbacks erode trust in not only the sales person but the brand. Microsoft is reportedly putting up a $200 million bounty to encourage sales of their oft admired but slow selling smartphones. Nokia will also get in the action, tossing at least another $100 million into the pot.

I speak to people each day who are trying to make sense of the PC industry. Many are downright frustrated with the focus on technical specs, hype and buzzwords that do nothing but confuse the average PC buyer. When they ask for assistance, they are putting their trust in me to cut through the crap and help them make an informed decision. It would be foolish of me to take that trust for granted.

But what if Nvidia decided to “incentivize” me to recommend their video cards to every gamer who walked through our doors? If I were working with you to select a new gaming PC is that something you’d like to know beforehand?

Luckily, I don’t have to decide between taking a bribe and doing what’s best for our customers. Not once have I been told to sell a certain brand or model, or convince customers to upgrade to more expensive components they don’t need. John calls such incentives “customary practice” in electronics retail, but that’s not encouraging given my experience at Best Buy. I wonder if Circuit City and Ultimate Electronics also followed that customary practice?

Gartner just released their latest report on PC shipments which were down nearly 6% in the 4Q of 2011. Yet we are experiencing record growth, and I attribute much of that to how we treat our customers. That trust leads to personal recommendations and return customers.

Yes, I earn a wage, but it’s not tied to selling a specific model or brand and I can’t imagine a scenario where anyone in sales would be allowed to take a kickback from a supplier. My job is to take care of the customer the best way I can. I’m given an incredible amount of leeway to interpret what the means. Most of my day is spent educating customers. If I’m lucky, I will have gained their trust and put them in a better position to make an informed decision.

But I work my butt off to earn that trust, and the thought of trading that trust for a few bucks is mind boggling. That John refers to us “salesdrones” tells me all I need to know as I strive to change that perception.

The Street Shot

When I was 12 years old, sports was all I cared about. I didn’t matter what I played as long as someone was keeping score. We had the best basketball court in the neighborhood so the boys would drop by to practice I’d challenge to a game of H-O-R-S-E.

It didn’t matter if they were older or stronger than I was, I would take them on. I spent hours shooting one shot from the street that was my ace in the hole. From the spot, which was slightly elevated, the hoop blended into the mountains making the basket seem further away than it actually was. During the summer months I’d practice a hundred shots from that spot and count how many I made.

Have you ever played someone at H-O-R-S-E who has one annoyingly accurate shot? That was the street shot. When the older kids thought they had me on the ropes, I’d reel off four or five straight from the street.

One friend got so frustrated after I beat him by one letter that he kicked my basketball down the street. I ran after after it giggling which made him even more upset.

My strategy worked until my brother decided to perfect “the grass shot” which was a totally illegal, out of bounds baseline shot I couldn’t knock down if my life depended on it.

I bring this up because I’ve watched my two sons compete with each other lately. Lincoln is patient, and although he’s competitive with himself, he doesn’t exhibit the outward competitiveness I see in my youngest son, Kai. Lincoln would rather teach himself how to solve the 7×7 V-Cube than hustle sodas from the neighbors.

A couple of years ago this bothered me. I couldn’t imagine having a son who’s ambivalent towards athletics. When Kai smacked a baseball into our neighbor’s yard this summer I couldn’t have been happier. Finally, I had my son who was into sports!

Yet as I spend time with Lincoln, I see traits that make me proud, on or off the court. He is far more patient and thoughtful than I was at his age. He’s analytical where I was impulsive. He’s probably a much better friend than I was too.

For Christmas Lincoln got a small RC helicopter. A few days later I decided to buy one too with the idea that we could spend time together, learning to fly our helicopters. I’ve been practicing while he’s at school, thinking I’d improve my skills to the point where I could share what I’ve learned with my son.

That was my thinking anyway until tonight. After I crashed my copter into the piano and ceiling fan, Lincoln took the control pad from me and piloted his way around the room without a crash.

And then he did something I wasn’t expecting. He circled the room again, but this time he did it backwards. The copter coasted back towards him until he gently landed it onto his open hand.

“That’s how you do it, Dad”

He just swished one from the street.

Finding Phish

No matter how often my friends tried to push Billy Joel on me I just couldn’t get in to his music. Especially “Big Shot” which made me want to reach through the radio and punch Joel in the nose.

One summer Joel toured through Salt Lake City, and I refused to go with two close friends who could not understand why I wouldn’t tag along. Three hours of Billy Joel tunes would have either killed me or put me in a coma.

But I couldn’t fake it. Music is too personal. Some say certain groups are an acquired taste. That might be the case for coffee, but I haven’t found that translates well to music. I may hear a song and not immediately love it. But I may find a groove or hook interesting and worth another play. But I can’t remember listening to a song that annoyed me on first listen ever making it back onto my playlist.

I never liked Journey. But during the 80’s it was nearly impossible to turn on the radio or MTV without hearing “Don’t Stop Believing” or “Any Way You Want It”.

Yet I loved about anything from Jackson Browne, a musician most of my friends couldn’t stomach. My efforts to get them into “The Pretender” fell on deaf ears.

About a year ago I came across “Intro to Phish” from Marco Arment, a blogger I read regularly. I’d heard of Phish, but wouldn’t have recognized of their music because they live outside the radio-friendly confines of mainstream music.

Phish is considered a jam-band known for their extended improvisations and “super extended grooves.” I’ve heard people relate them to the Grateful Dead, not in sound, but in how they connect with their audience. Arment said it best: “The band shows none of the rockstar “screw you” ego: they get on stage, share the spotlight among the four members, play like crazy, have a lot of fun, and humbly thank the fans for our support.”

I can’t convince you to like Phish anymore than my friends could drag me to the Billy Joel concert. But I hope you’ll give them a listen. You may enjoy their upbeat and unique sound. They are one of the few bands I can listen too for extended periods of time without getting bored. I don’t connect with their studio albums, but I really enjoy the energy from their live concerts. That’s where Phish shines.

46 Days was the song that hooked me initially. But Ghost is my favorite song right now. The jam from about 6:50 is amazing. They recently played four sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden to end the year. If you find their music matches your taste, dozens of their live concerts are available for purchase at the Live Phish website.

Phish–Ghost from Madison Square Garden 12/31/2010

A Few Thoughts On iTunes Match

When Apple announced iTunes Music Match I didn’t give it much thought. It was probably overshadowed by a phone or MacBook Air. Or maybe I didn’t fully grasp what Apple was offering.

Either way, I’ve tried so many music services over the years that the idea of yet another option felt like more of the same. I store about 15 gigs worth of music locally although only a fraction of that do I add to my iTunes library. The only music service that I stuck with for more than couple of years is Slacker Radio, and I still recommend their service.

Slacker doesn’t receive the press of Spotify or Pandora, and they don’t possess the polish of Rhapsody, but they do one thing better than any other service I’ve used: discover great music.

But I still have a large collection on my home PC that’s organized in iTunes playlists. I found myself at work wanting access to my playlists at home so I decided to purchase iTunes Match for $25/year. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but figured it was worth a shot. My goal was to be able to play my music collection at work without having to manage two libraries.

I opened iTunes, clicked on Store and turned on iTunes Match. A screen appeared asking me to confirm my purchase and seconds later iTunes was indexing (pic above) my music collection.

From what I understand, iTunes searches my entire music collection to determine matches between music on my PC and the iTunes Store. Any match is immediately enabled for streaming. Any songs it can’t’ find in the iTunes store, it uploads (up to 25,000 songs) to their iCloud. One nifty feature of iTunes Match is that, whenever possible, your music files are matched to a DRM-free, 256kbs high quality version on Apple’s server. If not, your songs are uploaded as is.

So far, I’ve made 5495 songs available in iCloud.

What I’ve enjoyed most about iTunes Match is that I’m able to have the identical iTunes setup at work as I do at home. It met my goal of wanting to access my iTunes Library at work.

I also enjoy being able to stream music to my iPad and iPhone. Space is always issue with my 16 GB iPad so being able to stream my music without taking up gigs worth of storage is sweet.

Would I recommend iTunes Match for everyone? No, I wouldn’t. If I had a small collection I’d probably load up my iPhone and plug it into speakers at work. Or I’d sync a few hundred songs via Dropbox and point iTunes or Winamp at them.

But I like being able to add to my music collection (Amazon’s MP3 store is my favorite) on my PC and having it show up everywhere else. No more managing folders and files on multiple devices.

iTunes Match is a “set it and forget it” service. Depending on the size of collection, it can a while to setup. The more obscure your taste in music, the more songs you’ll need to upload to iCloud. But once it’s working, there’s nothing to futz with. It doesn’t call attention to itself, and like most things Apple, it just works.